Foreign Affairs

by Patricia Scanlan

  Brenda went into town and treated herself to the most gorgeous silk navy lingerie. And then, walking past Principles, she saw a beautiful tailored royal blue suit with a long jacket, the sort Princess Di wore. Brenda gazed at it in admiration. It was elegant and classy and just the sort of suit Paula would wear. On impulse she went in and to her delight found a size fourteen in stock. To her absolute joy, it fitted her new lighter, trimmer figure like a glove. Brenda was ecstatic as she signed the cheque. It cost an arm and a leg but it was her reward to herself for sticking to her diet and getting her job and taking charge of her life again. She was on a high after her little shopping spree. It had really sent the adrenalin rushing through her.

  The weekend in Hotel Kilkenny was almost as good as being on her honeymoon. Having room service breakfast with no children making demands was glorious. She and Shay explored the historical elegant town and wandered in and out of shops and through winding arch-covered streets. They lunched in the famous Kytler’s Inn, and took a tour of the ancient castle with its magnificent views of the meandering river. Brenda went on another spending spree in the Kilkenny Design Centre and had to be dragged out by a laughing Shay. Arm in arm they walked back to the hotel and went for a swim in the pool and then did a workout in the gym, which left them breathless and laughing. They kissed and cuddled in the sauna and then sat in the Jacuzzi enjoying the powerful streams of water easing the aches from their unaccustomed exercise.

  ‘I wish we could stay for a week,’ Brenda said on the Sunday morning. It had been the nicest surprise of her life.

  ‘I wish we could too.’ Shay nuzzled her ear. ‘It was lovely having time on our own. We should try and do it more often.’ He leaned over and kissed her. Brenda, wearing her silky revealing nightdress, felt quite sexy. They’d made love several times and the knowledge that they weren’t going to be disturbed by the children relaxed her greatly. She often maintained that Lauren and Claudia were the best contraceptives going.

  Brenda kissed Shay’s navel, and stroked her hand along the inside of his thigh, that always drove him wild.

  ‘Oh Bren,’ he breathed. ‘Keep doing it!’ She felt like Paige Mathison, her heroine in Knot’s Landing. Wearing her sexy nightgown made Brenda feel wanton and desirable. She increased the pressure of her fingers.

  ‘Aaah, Brenda, Brenda,’ Shay moaned.

  ‘Where’s the condoms?’ Brenda murmured.

  ‘There’s none left.’ Shay groaned. Brenda stopped her stroking.

  ‘Ah, Brenda, don’t stop,’ Shay pleaded. He was wildly aroused. They hadn’t had so much sex in months. It was great. He couldn’t stop himself. Before she could say anything he’d entered her and was thrusting wildly.

  Brenda, excited by his passion, joined in the fun.

  ‘That was the best ever,’ Shay panted, seconds later. Brenda sighed in pleasure. It reminded her of one night when Eddie jumped on her because he’d been so aroused. Paula Matthews wasn’t the only femme fatale, she thought smugly, but a little niggle of unease troubled her. Shay hadn’t been wearing a condom. Although she thought it was pretty safe, you could never be absolutely sure. She’d be on tenterhooks until her period arrived. Having a baby now, at her age, would ruin every bit of freedom she’d finally earned for herself. If she found out she was pregnant, she’d kill herself.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Shay noticed her change of humour.

  ‘I hope I don’t get caught. We took a bit of a risk.’

  ‘You’ll be fine.’ Shay, relaxing in the afterglow of his performance, was untroubled.

  ‘I hope so,’ Brenda murmured, snuggling down for forty winks. Shay was right, there was nothing to worry about, she was well past her ovulating period according to her calculations.

  Chapter Eighty-One

  ‘Happy Anniversary to you,

  Happy Anniversary to you,

  Happy Anniveerrsaaarrry darling Jennifer . . .

  Happy Anniversary to you.’

  Jennifer awoke to the sound of Ronan serenading her. He stood beside the bed balancing the breakfast tray in one hand and a huge bouquet of freesias and a long slender package in the other. Tousle-headed and bleary-eyed, she grinned up at him. ‘Good morning, lovie, you didn’t forget this year, I see,’ she joked.

  Ronan laid the tray gently on her knees. ‘Once bitten, twice shy.’ He chuckled. He’d forgotten their anniversary the previous year and had to endure weeks of teasing. He’d circled the date in red marker in his diary at work and begged Rachel to remind him in case he forgot. She’d very kindly phoned the previous week.

  ‘Here’s your card.’ Jennifer leaned over to her bedside locker and took a card from between the pages of her library book and handed it to him with a small flat package.

  ‘Let’s open them together. What is it?’ he asked, starting to rip off the paper with boyish enthusiasm. Jennifer couldn’t wait for him to open his present. She’d planned to be awake before him but these nights she slept like a log.

  ‘Open yours, open yours,’ he instructed and she busily began to unwrap her present, keeping an eye on him. ‘What’s this?’ he asked, astounded, holding up a book of children’s names. Two tiny pairs of booties, one pink, one blue, fell on the bed. Ronan picked them up and looked at them, and then at Jennifer, and then at the book and then at Jennifer again. He couldn’t speak.

  ‘Happy Anniversary,’ she said softly.

  ‘You’re not . . . Are you . . . Jenny, are you going to have a baby?’

  ‘We’re going to have a baby,’ she corrected him, beaming.

  ‘How do you know? I mean, have you been to the doctor?’ Ronan sat on the bed, flabbergasted.

  ‘I found out last week. I suspected it for ages and I went to the doctor and I’m eight weeks pregnant. I was dying to tell you but I thought it would make our anniversary special.’

  ‘Oh, Jenny.’ Ronan leaned over and kissed her. ‘I can’t believe it.’

  ‘Me neither.’ She smiled happily. ‘Are you glad?’

  ‘Glad! I’m over the moon,’ Ronan declared. ‘I’ll tell you one thing, it will get Grandpa Myles and Dad off my back. I think they were beginning to suspect I was a eunuch!’

  Jennifer giggled. ‘Well I suppose they think after four years we should have something to show for it. Their generation was so different from ours. I can’t wait to tell Paula and the girls.’

  ‘How did you keep it to yourself? You of all people?’ Ronan got into bed beside her and took the tray on his knees as she finished unwrapping her present.

  Jennifer paused from her task and smiled at him. ‘Ronan, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I wanted you to be the first to know. I couldn’t tell anybody else before I told you. And I wanted to keep it for our anniversary.’

  ‘Well you’ve outdone yourself in presents.’ Ronan grinned. ‘I’ll never be able to outdo this.’

  ‘Ronan!’ Jennifer gave a little squeal of pleasure as she saw the exquisite gold rope chain lying on black velvet. ‘It’s beautiful. Thank you. I’m really happy today,’ she sighed, fingering the chain. ‘I can’t believe we’re four years married.’

  ‘Remember the lamb?’ Ronan chuckled.

  ‘Remember Grandpa Myles eating the face off the manager.’ Jennifer laughed.

  ‘There’s another little present for you in your card,’ she informed him.

  ‘I was so excited about hearing about the baby I forgot to open it.’ Ronan dived down the bed, nearly upsetting the tray, as he grabbed the white envelope. He opened it, read the message and a broad grin spread across his face as he opened the gift voucher for six months of training sessions at the local gym. Ronan was a keep-fit addict and liked to work out regularly.

  ‘Thanks. You’re the best wife in the universe. Imagine you’re pregnant and I never even guessed. Do you feel queasy or peculiar or anything? Brenda was always feeling dizzy at the beginning, wasn’t she?’ he asked.

  Jennifer shook her head. ‘I feel fantastic. I don’t feel any different.
Except I get a bit tired at night. That’s why I’m sleeping my brains out. I’d planned to be up before you this morning.’

  ‘Well after last year’s fiasco I thought I’d better make a special effort. I didn’t do us a fry-up because I’ve booked lunch for us at the Deer Park in Howth at one.’

  ‘Oh my favourite.’ Jennifer lay back on her pillows and felt very pampered and cherished. ‘It’s nice having our anniversary on a Sunday. We have the whole day all to ourselves.’

  ‘Let’s go for a walk along the pier afterwards, then we’ll come home, light the fire and get all the papers and flop for the rest of the afternoon,’ Ronan suggested.

  ‘I wonder will it be a boy or a girl,’ she mused.

  ‘What would you prefer?’ Ronan munched his toast.

  ‘I’d like twins, a boy and a girl, the way Brenda had. That would solve all problems,’ Jennifer said.

  ‘Jeepers, I never thought about twins.’ Ronan looked slightly shocked.

  ‘The doctor doesn’t think it’s twins,’ Jennifer said. ‘I was just saying it would be handy. But I don’t mind as long as everything’s OK.’

  ‘I’ll be able to play Santa this year, and I’ll have to remember Mother’s Day next year.’ Ronan groaned. ‘What am I letting myself in for?’ They stayed in bed making plans, discussing names and laughing over some of the more outrageous ones Ronan selected from his book. Then they made love and took a shower together afterwards.

  It was a bright blustery day. They decided to go to eleven-thirty Mass in Ballygall and then pop in to tell Kit and Jim the news before heading off for lunch. Jennifer sat beside Ronan listening to the magnificent choir singing Be Not Afraid and felt very content and happy.

  Kit and Jim were thrilled with her news, as was Grandpa Myles.

  ‘It’s about time,’ he declared, shaking Ronan’s hand. ‘Ye had me worried.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Grandpa, would you give over?’ Jennifer was half annoyed, half amused.

  ‘It’s all right, my girl, but you don’t want to be geriatrics yourselves when your children are growing up. All this nonsense about women having careers, and putting off having babies. T’ain’t natural. St Paul says—’

  ‘Don’t quote that misogynist to me,’ Jennifer snorted. She had no time for St Paul or St Augustine, her grandfather’s favourites, and source of all wisdom concerning women, or so he thought.

  ‘That’s a big word . . . like marmalade, Miss. What does it mean?’ Grandfather Myles asked huffily.

  ‘It means woman-hater,’ Jennifer said.

  ‘What nonsense. St Paul spoke a lot of common sense about women, as did St Augustine—’

  ‘St Augustine was a randy old goat who blamed women because he couldn’t control his urges. And then he had the cheek to start maligning women when he was past it.’ Jennifer scowled. Kit started to laugh and Jim and Ronan winked at each other.

  ‘Wirra, wirra, that’s a terrible thing to say about a saint. And you a mother-to-be—’

  ‘And I can tell you one thing, Grandpa,’ Jennifer continued. ‘If it’s a boy, I won’t be calling him Augustine or—’

  ‘I sincerely hope not,’ interjected her grandfather. ‘I hope you’ll be calling him Daniel after his grandfather. Not like that Brenda one and her John.’ Jennifer had to laugh. You couldn’t win with Grandpa Myles or get the last word.

  ‘Will we call him Daniel if it’s a boy?’ Ronan asked as they drove along the sea front towards Howth. ‘It’s a nice name. And Grumps would be chuffed.’ Ronan had a soft spot for Jennifer’s grandfather.

  ‘But what about your father, wouldn’t he mind?’

  ‘Tough,’ Ronan said grimly. ‘One William Stapleton is enough in the world.’

  ‘Daniel is a nice name.’ Jennifer squeezed his hand. ‘And if it’s a girl we can call her Danielle,’ she added excitedly. Her grandfather would be as proud as punch.

  ‘Danielle’s even more exotic than Claudia,’ teased Ronan.

  ‘Oh, stop it, you.’

  ‘Well that’s the names picked with no arguments. What a team we are,’ Ronan said with satisfaction as they drove through Sutton Cross.

  ‘I wish it was November already.’ Jennifer felt impatient now that she knew she was going to have a Daniel or a Danielle. She wished she didn’t have to wait seven more months to have the baby. She wanted it now!

  They ate a delicious lunch in the cosy dining-room of the Deer Park. She and Ronan regularly treated themselves to Sunday lunch there. The two very pleasant waitresses knew them well and always had a laugh and a chat with them. The roast beef and Yorkshire pudding was delicious, and when she was asked if she’d like another slice, Jennifer immediately said yes. After all, she was eating for two, she made excuses for her gluttony.

  ‘Oh Ronan, look, there’s Banofi for dessert. They must have known we were coming,’ Jennifer enthused as she read the menu. She just adored the toffee and bananas in the crunchy crushed biscuit base which was all topped lavishly with cream. She had made it once herself when she had the girls over for dinner. Paula had produced a carton of Häagen-Dazs and she’d spread the ice cream on top. It had been out of this world.

  They lingered over coffee, gazing out at the magnificent tree-lined grounds overlooking the sea and Ireland’s Eye. The waitress brought them more coffee and then Ronan and Jennifer sat, holding hands, discussing how their life was about to change.

  ‘We’ll have to go house-hunting. Our little shoe-box is too small, even though it’s the nicest shoe-box in the world,’ Ronan said.

  ‘Yeah, we need a house with a big back garden. It was different when we were small. It was safe to let children out to play. I wouldn’t dare let a child out of my sight now,’ Jennifer said sombrely.

  ‘We’ll get a house with a big garden,’ Ronan promised. ‘Whereabouts would you like to live?’

  ‘Somewhere around Mam and Dad’s or Glasnevin or Ballygall,’ Jennifer suggested.

  ‘Why don’t we go for our walk, and take a spin around and see if there’s anything for sale on the way home?’

  ‘I’m married to a genius.’ Jennifer grinned.

  They strolled along the top of the pier, holding hands, enjoying the wind as it whipped against their faces. Jennifer breathed deeply, inhaling the tangy clean salty air. It was nice to get the exercise after the superb lunch they’d just eaten. The waves crashed in on the rocks, sending up great sprays of spume, and they stood watching a little trawler gallantly ploughing towards the entrance of the harbour and didn’t envy the poor fishermen one bit. A young couple pushed a sleeping baby in a buggy ahead of them.

  ‘That will be us, this time next year,’ Jennifer murmured.

  ‘I can’t wait.’ Ronan put his arms around her and kissed her.

  ‘I can’t either.’ Jennifer was on cloud nine. They’d decided a year ago to start trying for a baby and she’d come off the pill. She’d been a bit worried in the last few months when there’d been no sign of her conceiving. When her period hadn’t arrived two months ago she wondered could she be pregnant. Jennifer put off going to the doctor, and wouldn’t even try one of the home testing kits in case the result was negative. But as the weeks passed and there was no sign of her period she allowed her hope to get stronger and then she instinctively knew she was pregnant. She knew that there was life inside her, the doctor just confirmed it for her.

  She was a very lucky person, Jennifer decided, several hours later, as she lay cuddled on the sofa with Ronan, reading the Sunday papers in front of a blazing fire. It had started to rain and the wind was howling down the chimney. The sitting-room, with its warm buttermilk walls and cheerful cream and blue chintz curtains, was cosy and homely. Jennifer and Ronan had put a lot of effort into their house. She’d miss it when they had to sell it. But it only had two bedrooms and a postage stamp of a garden. She wouldn’t even have room to store a pram. They’d been very happy in their little home for the last four years but it was time to move on, Jennifer thought as her
eyelids grew heavy and she settled herself more comfortably against Ronan’s shoulder.

  ‘This is the best anniversary ever,’ she murmured drowsily.

  A little rumbling snore was her husband’s answer to that. Jennifer smiled in the firelight and closed her eyes.

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  ‘I’m thrilled for you, Jenny.’ Paula hugged her best friend warmly. ‘Is Ronan chuffed?’

  ‘Ah he’s delighted.’ Jennifer beamed. They were sitting in her office having a mug of coffee.

  ‘Are you going to give up work?’ Paula asked. ‘I hope you won’t. I’d miss you like crazy and Kieran would have a fit. He claims he’s never been so organized in his life because you’re much stricter with him than Helen was.’

  ‘You’d have to be strict with that fella,’ Jennifer retorted. ‘Or you’d end up on Valium. I think I hear him arriving.’ The unmistakable sound of the Harley’s roar penetrated the first floor window.

  ‘Are you going to tell him yet?’ Paula asked.

  ‘I suppose I’d better. To let him get used to the idea that he’s going to have to get a new secretary for a while anyway. God help her.’

  Kieran strode through the door, wearing his black leather jacket and his gauntlets. He’d removed his helmet on the way up the stairs. ‘Morning all,’ he said cheerfully.

  Jennifer smiled. Kieran’s sunny nature reminded her of Ronan. ‘I told you to wear a suit today.’ She wagged a finger at her boss. ‘You’ve a lunch in The Commons with that journalist who’s doing a profile of the company. I’m not letting you go to lunch looking like a Hell’s Angel.’

  ‘You’re worse than my mother,’ Kieran groaned. ‘Paula, come to my aid here. Tell this woman that clothes do not maketh the man.’ He straddled a chair with his long legs and ran his fingers through his dark hair, which was all over the place.

  ‘I’m staying on my fence.’ Paula grinned. ‘Far be it from me to get involved in one of your arguments.’